Backbeat
by chiisai-kitty
Summary: Eric Northman's band, Area Five, just lost some members and his pride is wounded. Fellow bandmember Bill suggests his best friend, bassist Sookie Stackhouse. Details inside. AH/AU, We're going to Florida!, and some OOC on Sookie's part, the good kind.
1. I Get Off

**A/N: Hey there. Thanks for clicking this to everyone, whether it was from an alert email, from Twitter, or from the SVM fic main page. Let me start this by explaining a bit about this story. I like music (who doesn't) and I'm going to a show where Sick Puppies will be playing next month. So in my research on them, I discovered that their bassist is female. Her name is Emma Anzai, and she's pretty badass. So I got to thinking (which is always a dangerous endeavor), realizing that while there are a few stories out there that have Sookie singing in some way shape or form, few have her as a badass rocker chick, so that's where this comes in.**

**Also, there are/will be a lot of rock/music references, so I'll try and explain some at the bottom. Any more questions, feel free to ask.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the SVM characters, or any songs that will be mentioned in this story.**

**Special thanks to the ladies on Twitter. **

**For those about to rock, we salute you. And I give you…Backbeat.**

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**Chapter One- I Get Off**

It's a give and take kind of love we make  
When a line gets crossed, I get off  
-Halestorm, "I Get Off"

EPOV

I sat at the round, wooden table, drumming my fingers against the resin veneer. The girl on stage was singing about getting off and while I should have been devising a way to get to her after her performance, I was desperately trying to tune her out and _not_ break something. I was more successful at tuning out whatever the hell it was that my friend and fellow drummer, Tray, was talking about.

"Eric, man?" Looking up at him, I could tell that this wasn't the first time he had addressed me with that phrase. I nodded to signal that he had my attention. "I was trying to ask you if you knew where Bill went."

I shrugged; I really had no idea where that fuckwad had gone. I also had no idea why he was even in the band in the first place. Maybe it was because he played guitar like Slash…maybe it was because he was Sophie's best friend…yeah, probably that.

But now both Sophie, our second guitarist, and Andre, our bassist and second vocalist, had skipped out on us to 'go solo'. With each other. Mostly likely in the back of Andre's van. Which leads me to our third problem: lack of equipment transportation. A second guitar we could take or leave, but being sans bassist, male vocals and a way of hauling equipment? Absolutely not.

So here Tray and I sat, in The Social, at a radio station-sponsored Battle of the Bands. Why we came is beyond me, I think Bill suggested it, but we were currently listening to the winning band. Naturally, not being able to compete was enough to set me off, but it was _who_ won rather than the fact that we didn't. We could have blown the Rock 'n' Roll Spice Girls right off the fucking stage.

The band that won was none other than Hadley's Comet (_clever_, I know…), the only other band from my hometown of Daytona Beach. Tray lived there too, but he was currently between bands. He tagged along to see if anyone was in need of a new drummer. It was a shame he couldn't play anything with strings…he was a hell of a drummer.

The sound of raging applause was my signal that Hadley and her harem were finished with their victory song. It was also my beacon to Bill, who had made his way to the stage (an impressive feat), only to catch a girl flinging herself off of it. Why anyone would fling themselves at Bill was beyond me, but it definitely made sense why he wanted to come now. It seemed that Hadley's Comet managed to recruit a Lzzy Hale Spice, only blonder. I was busy studying the intricacies of the red and black mini dress she was wearing when I noticed Bill was leading her over to our table.

"Eric. I have someone I want you to meet. This is Sookie Stackhouse, the bassist I was telling you about." Oh yeah, her.

"Sookie 'stellar bassist' Stackhouse? Yeah, you mentioned her. And like I said when you did, there's no room in our band for girls and their girly shit drama." Rude? Definitely. Immature? Most likely. I really didn't care either way; after Sophiegate I was over chick rockers and I didn't care who knew. Even if Bassist Sookie was easy on the eyes.

"Pam's a girl and you're okay with her." Bill. So observant. Bastard.

"Pam gets more pussy than you do, Compton." I glanced over at Sookie, who was trying her damnedest not to look appalled at my frank statement. The corner of my mouth turned up in a smirk. "Regardless, no more girls," I continued. Standing up, I looked over Bill's head (not a hard thing to do) to find Hadley's hot little frontwoman, Dahlia.

"Well, it's been real, Bill. If Sticks gets his head out of his ass anytime soon, you know where to find me," said Sookie, giving Bill a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. She nodded to Dahlia before disappearing in the throng of people. _Sticks, _huh?

Bitch.

Admittedly horny, however. Interesting.

Ah, Dahlia.

I slipped my arm around the redhead's bare shoulders. "I'm not making concessions for some chick you're banging, Bill," I said, turning to him. "Find me a real bassist." I saw him nod as I lead Dahlia towards the door.

---

SPOV

Winning felt fantastic. Even Sticks couldn't fuck that up. And he was a douche. A big one.

Find him a _real_ bassist. Psh. So he didn't think I was good enough. Fine, he could wallow in bassist-less agony for the rest of his band's existence, which wasn't looking like too much longer now that they were down two people. At least that's what Bill told me. He's pretty upset about it.

I couldn't find a redeeming quality in Eric the entire time I endured his girl-hating monologue. Everything he said was a big load of shit, except that part about Bill's lack-o-pussy. That part was pretty much on the money. Only I was pretty sure Eric didn't know why.

Bill's my best friend. He's also gay. Severely in the closet, but gay. I was the only one who knew. I even offered to be his beard once, but he declined. Most people thought we were together anyway. It was pretty evident that it was Eric thought.

And that brings me back to Eric. Damn it. Him and his precious band.

I remember the first time I saw Area Five play. I was a senior in high school. Bill had been part of the band since its inception, but wouldn't let me come see him play until they had an "actual gig". So I waited.

Watching Area Five was actually what inspired me to start playing. Bill told me that they were called Area Five because there were five of them, but I was convinced that it was because of their diversity. They were a nice blend of five genres: alternative, metal, ska, a little bit of pop-rock, and a blend of hard rock. It was like listening to an iPod on shuffle.

They were also a little bit like Guitar Hero in that they had two singers: a male and a female. Some songs were male-driven, some female, and some were duets. It set them apart. I wondered how they were going to handle the loss of the man part of that.

I wandered around, finding Hadley manning her band's merch table. She was surrounded by a group of giggly scene girls who were buying the newest neon t-shirts. There was also a buttload of other people around the table, so I ducked around a few to emerge on the other side.

"Hey, cuz. Why you still slumming' with us? Thought Bill was inducting you into Area Five or some shit." Hadley smiled at me. Even though the two bands were die-hard rivals, she was happy that I'd have the chance to actually join a band, instead of just filling in for Tara when her mom got especially drunk.

"Negatory," I replied. "Eric decided to live up to his douche bag reputation rather than save his band from the seemingly inevitable breakup." I wasn't tooting my own horn, I was just going on what Bill had told me. No bass/guitar/vocals meant no gigs, no gigs meant no band.

"Asshat," Arlene, the fiery little guitarist, piped up as she handed someone change. "His loss." I smiled and nodded at her.

We continued selling things for a few comfortable, silent minutes. I had just handed off a pair of CDs to a couple when Hadley spoke again. "Have you seen Dahlia? I haven't seen her since the show, and she's supposed to be helping."

"She left with Eric shortly after he blew me off." I rolled my eyes. I had nothing against Dahlia, she was a lot of fun, she just thought with the wrong head…err, or whatever the female equivalent of that was. She was a lot like my brother in that regard. Speaking of…

"Hey sis, hey Had. Sook, I was just getting ready to take off, that little redheaded singer of Had's still around?" Oh, Jason. When will you ever learn?

"She left…with Eric," Hadley cut in. "But it's not as if she'd be leaving with you." She snorted. It was true, Dahlia was the one female that wouldn't give Jason the time of day. Jason didn't get it though; he'd keep always finding some excuse to 'happen to be' at practices.

Thankfully, Bill chose that moment to pop up and save me. I didn't want to be around for the argument that was sure to break out between the two of them. It always happened.

"Sook, ready to go?" Bill asked, sliding around the like, five people remaining around the table.

"Never readier," I responded, grabbing my jacket from the chair where I left it before the show. "Bye Hadley, Arlene. Jason, go home."

Arlene pulled her attention from the impending Stackhouse family fight to look my way. "Bye, Sook. Oh, hey! Are we still on for our thing tomorrow night?"

"Definitely." I waived at her and started walking away with Bill. I looked over at him. "Are you going to be able to come?"

"Yeah. Eric cancelled yet another practice to 'talent scout'," said Bill, air quotes and all. "He'll probably end up coming with me. Sorry."

"Don't be. It'll just be another chance for me to rub in how fucking fantastic I am." I shot a sideways smile at Bill and he laughed.

"God, I wouldn't miss that for the world."

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**So there's chapter one. A short little ditty, but it just didn't feel right getting into the next day in this chapter.**

**So let me know what you think.**

**Oh, and I drank the Twitter Kool-Aid, something I never, ever thought I'd do. So if you want to get to know me, or just hang out with the lovely ladies that write/read the fics on here, add me, I'm chiisai_kitty (shocking, right?).**

**Rock-tionary:**

**Slash: Guns and Roses guitarist. He's pretty famous, but I thought I'd put that out there.**

**Lzzy Hale: Frontwoman of Halestorm, recently voted the "Sexiest Woman in Metal", who sings the song, "I Get Off", where the title comes from. It's also the song that Hadley's Comet performs at the opening of the chapter. I also don't own it.**

**The playlist for Backbeat can be found here: http://www . play list . com/playlist/19369853707**


	2. A Taste of Honey

**A/N: Back for chapter two! Yay! I know that this is still awfully short, but once again, didn't want to move onto the next day just yet. So this is a disco-inspired chapter, which should be both fun and random, lol. Kind of a little bit of plot progression, plus the intro of Pam, so it's all good. A big thanks to everyone for reading/reviewing/alerting the story, the response has been pretty fantastic *warm fuzzies*. Ok, well I think that's all I had to say, so I'll meet you at the bottom.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Two- A Taste of Honey**

EPOV

Why I kept following Bill places was beyond me. And to a fucking variety talent show of all places. Little Dahlia had mentioned something about being here though, so it might not be a total bust.

Bill, Tray, and I had just made it to the table when I discovered that this little variety show had a theme: disco. There was even a miniature disco ball hanging over every other table._ Cute. _

Someone blonde was approaching the table. "What can I get you guys…hey! What the hell are you guys doing here?" I looked up at the speaker. Pam.

"Could ask you the same thing," Bill responded.

"Just got a job here," replied Pam. "Needed something to do with myself, you know?" She shot me a pointed look.

"We will have another practice, Pam, don't worry." I matched her look. "Now please tell me you serve beer here." She nodded and scooted toward the counter.

I looked toward Bill. "What the hell _are _we doing here?" Bill opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by someone sliding into our booth at the same time Pam delivered our beers. It was Dahlia, and she was wearing some kind of hot pants bodysuit number. Mmm.

"Hey guys," she started, smiling and twirling a lock of her two-toned red hair. "Here for the show?" Tray was nodding like an idiot; Bill just smiled. What the hell kind of talent show were they running here? Dahlia turned to me. "What? Not excited?"

"I might be if I knew why the fuck we were here," I pointed out as calmly as possible.

"It's a secret," she giggled, and I swore she winked at Bill. I crossed my arms. It was imposing more than pouty. Dahlia was only supposed to conspire with me.

Sure, we were friends with benefits, but we were friends first. Like playing video games and watching Manswers kind of friends. Who also fucked from time to time. Whatever. She was a cool chick. What was not-so-cool was that she was obviously keeping something from me. Something that Bill knew.

I was just about to say something to her when she popped up from her seat, announcing that she had to be on stage. Well, at least I'd be finding out the surprise soon enough.

---

SPOV

I looked up from where I was sitting tuning my guitar to see Dahlia returning backstage.

"Eric's here," she casually commented. I knew she knew about my grand mal rejection because she was really good friends with Eric and, well, everyone fucking knew about it. I also knew she had some kind of pull with Eric, but I wasn't that desperate to join his damn band. He could just see for his own damn self how much I wasn't worth rejecting.

"Excellent," I responded. She smiled at me and winked.

"You guys ready for this thing?" asked Arlene as she approached, guitar slung across her back. Her outfit matched mine, we were both clad in 70s-style yellow leather vests with three ties across the front. And nothing underneath. I was never more thankful for double-stick tape. But we looked hot. Dahlia was wearing a yellow vintage bathing suit that had flowers and other designs on it. It may have been a bathing suit, but it looked like a catsuit that had shorts instead of pants. It was pretty awesome.

I nodded at Arlene, pulling my own strap over my head. I was a little worried about the logistics of the revealing top and my guitar strap, so I added a couple more strips of tape where it'd count. I took one last look in the mirror, making sure my Farrah Fawcett was still properly flippy.

The original plan was to have Hadley on drums, but she had backed out a couple of days ago in order to take a babysitting job. So we were using the drummer from the club's house band. We'd never rehearsed with him before, but that was the only thing I was nervous about. Well, that and the possible appearance of the girls.

When we walked onto the stage, the curtains were still drawn and our drummer, Christian, was already set up. I walked over to my spot and got plugged in, strummed a couple times for good measure, then looked up above us to see a huge disco ball hanging above us. _Cute._

Disco's not really my thing. Never has been. But I have a deep, resounding love for one disco song in particular: A Taste of Honey's "Boogie Oogie Oogie." It was the first song I ever mastered on bass that I was super proud of ("Smoke on the Water" was the first song ever, but I don't really count it). Not only is the song mostly bass-driven, but their bassist was female. That's pretty damn cool in my opinion.

So that's why we were here, to perform it. I dragged Arlene into it because I needed her, and I asked Dahlia because I can't carry a tune in a fucking paper bag. The costumes were Dahlia's idea. I was a little worried at first when she suggested them, but it worked out.

---

EPOV

About five minutes had passed since Dahlia had left our table. Two more passed before the lights dimmed a little more and Pam got up on stage.

"You guys are here for disco night, so we might as well give you one." The audience started to cheer and Pam pushed her hands toward the floor, signaling them to take it down a notch. "Now before you guys go crazy, let me introduce our first act. These three girls have wicked talent and they're gonna take you straight back to the 70s," which few people in the room were even alive for, "with 'Boogie Oogie Oogie.'" Seriously?

Sure enough, the curtain swung back to reveal Dahlia, Arlene, and Sookie in 70s style clothes. As Sookie started to play the well-known bass line, I shot Bill a look. He just shrugged in response. I wanted to deck him.

Turning my attention to the stage, I watched Dahlia dancing with Sookie. The two were writing against each other…well as much as they could with Sookie holding her bass. Okay, now I was intrigued, disco or not.

My eyes roamed over Sookie, finally taking it what she was wearing. She had on purple hot pants and a yellow vest. That's it. I started to ponder how everything was staying in place when I felt a presence hanging over the back of my side of the booth. I turned around; Pam.

"She's something, isn't she?" Was everyone jumping on the 'get Sookie Stackhouse in my band' bandwagon? I mean, I knew Pam and Sookie were classmates, but I didn't they really talked or anything. But maybe they did. Who knew?

"Something is an accurate word, Pam."

"Pull the stick out of your ass, Eric. She's fucking phenomenal. Like fifty times better than Andre. Dicksuck," she muttered under her breath.

"I meant it when I said no more girls."

"Eric…"

"Drop it. Don't you have a job to do?" Pam looked like she was about to say something else, but instead closed her mouth. She popped me in the arm with her little tray before leaving the table.

When I looked back up at the stage, the girls were wrapping up the song. Looking to Compton once more, I said, "Well that was exhilarating. So much so, I'm calling a practice session for tomorrow afternoon. What do you say, Compton?"

Bill looked like a deer in the headlights. "Uh, yeah, sure." I nodded in Tray's direction to signify that he was more than welcome to attend.

I'll admit it, I had an ulterior motive in calling that practice. If I knew anything at all about Bill, coupled with his current scheming, he'd play his role in my new little plan just fine.

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**Hey again! Big thanks to my special ladies on Twitter, cause they're basically the shit. If you're not there, you're square. JK! But you should totally join us, we have some really crazy discussions on there. It's a blast. I'm chiisai_kitty, come find me!**

**Also, the song from this chapter has been added to Backbeat's play list, which is linking in my profile. Links to the girls' disco costumes are also linked there.**

**Rock/Disco-tionary:**

**-A Taste of Honey: The chapter's name comes from the band that sings "Boogie Oogie Oogie" as I mentioned above. They're seriously badass chicks for the disco era.**

**-Smoke on the Water: A Deep Purple song that is the "Hot Cross Buns" of the rock world. Most people I know, know how to play it on something, even if it isn't the guitar/bass. I can play it on the recorder, the clarinet, and the piano. I'm also a dork.**

**I totally meant to mention this last chapter, but The Social (the club we were in in ch. 1) is a really place. It's in Orlando. I've never been, as most of their shows are 21+, but I understand it's a pretty cool place. As for disco night, I didn't really have a specific place in mind, but it's definitely a jazz club of some sort. We don't have anything like that near me unfortunately, so that locale is purely fiction. Everything else, for the most part, will be factual.**

**Ok, I'm done talking now. Let me know what you think!**

**-Sydney**


	3. Excuse Me, Mr

**A/N: Hey everybody. I've established that rotation schedule I mentioned in Allegro, and next up is Stiletto, then Allegro, and then the cycle starts again with Backbeat. I'll finish Drawn sometime in there when I feel so inspired. I've also decided to start putting in quotes, a la some of the fabulous other writers, like Miss Construed, greenlemons, and many more, except I'll be using song lyrics. They'll usually be from the title song, but I have a few that fit from extra songs, so I'll add those to the playlist as well. I'm pretty sure that is all that is new, so I'll shut up now, lol.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Three- Excuse Me, Mr.**

Well I've been waiting in line  
And I'd like to buy some of your time  
I'm very anxious, eager, willing  
-No Doubt, "Excuse Me Mr."

SPOV

I was upstairs in the kitchen when I heard a loud crash in the basement. And I mean loud. This was followed by a string of expletives from one very distinguishable Swede.

"It's Eric," Bill confirmed, taking the sandwich I was offering him. "He's yelling at Pam because none of Andre's songs sound right when she sings them." Aww, poor Pam. "Well, not at Pam specifically," Bill continued, picking up on my expression, "more like at the situation in general. But Pam's dishing back plenty, believe me."

Almost as if they were on cue, Pam came storming up from the basement. She whirled around at the top of the stairs, screamed, "Pussy!" down at Eric, and slammed the door behind her. Well, then.

"Good to see you this afternoon, Pammie. And so eloquent to boot!" I smirked at her as she noticed Bill and me in the kitchen. She returned the smirk before scooping up my much smaller frame into a hug. Pam wasn't fat or anything, she was just built like an Amazon. Thank you, Brick House.

"Sookie, I'm so glad you came. Not that it'll improve Eric's mood or anything, but I'm glad nonetheless," she smiled another toothy smile. Pammie was up to something. I just hoped it was the same something Bill and I were up to.

"Sandwich?" I offered.

"Sure. BLT?" she inquired, hopping up on the counter. I nodded and started to make more sandwiches.

"Eric just needs to fucking learn that of course it isn't going to sound right when I sing Andre's songs, and obviously I can't scream. Well, at least not in a musical sense," she added, snagging a piece of bacon. Pam was right, Lacey Mosley she was not. "He also needs to get his head out of his ass."

"I thought you just established that," I said, laughing as I grabbed the bread out of the toaster.

"I mean about you, Stackhouse. You're one of the best damn bassists out there, and Eric knows it. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to even out the band's hole to pole ratio." That Pam.

I handed Pam her BLT, grabbing one for myself as well. She pulled a six-pack of beer out of the fridge.

"We better get down there," Bill stated. "Eric's gonna start whether we're down there or not."

I followed Bill and Pam down into the basement, where Eric was still throwing shit around and cursing. His attention snapped to us as soon as we hit the landing.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" he all but growled; the she being me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Pam beat me to it. "It's Bill's basement, you dick. Besides, we like Sookie. You should too." I couldn't have said it better myself.

"Fine…whatever. She can sit and watch."

"Thanks, sergeant," I retorted, rolling my eyes and plopping down on one of the couches. Eric looked like he had something to respond with, but he was silenced by the outside door opening. I watched in amazement as ten incredibly good-looking guys made their way into Bill's basement.

This whole situation would have been the shit that fantasies are made of…if some of these guys weren't here to audition for the spot that should have been mine. But some of them were there to sing, and that I could totally get into. I also noticed that Tray Dawson had made his way in too, and was currently talking to Pam, I shrugged.

"Okay. I know that a few of you came to audition together, so you all will go first." Eric had magically regained his composure somewhere in the last five minutes. "First two, whoever wants to start." The musician harem started to look around and at each other. That was when I noticed that they had segregated themselves: bassists on one couch, singers on the other, and the guys who came together were sitting closest to where the two couches almost touched. It was a rock star Venn diagram.

Two of the middle men stood up. One of them, the one with the bass guitar, was an average height for a guy (he wasn't Eric-tall or anything) and he had short, black, curly hair. From first glance, he also had an eyebrow piercing. At a second glance, and some speaking, he had a tongue ring too. The singer was about the same height and such, just with a more Hispanic coloring. Both his nose and eyebrow were pierced. "Names?" Eric asked.

"I'm Felipe de Castro, and this is Victor Madden," replied the singer, in a semi-thick Spanish accent.

"Song?" Eric prompted while they were setting up. Bill had told me this morning that the auditioners' material had to be an Area Five song. Made sense.

"Sooner or Later." I watched a mix of emotion pass across Eric's face before he locked down a bit. I think I was the first one to catch onto the why of it. It was because 'Sooner or Later' was a song that used two guitars, and the need for two guitars was something that hadn't crossed Eric's mind until now.

"We can't do that song." He looked pained as he spoke. "We don't have a second guitarist anymore." Eric kind of looked like a lost puppy. One that had just pissed on your shoe or eaten it. Cute and all, but still a pain in the ass.

"We can do it. I've got it," Pam piped up. She told me about six months ago that she was feeling kind of useless in the band. 'More like eye candy with pipes' was how she put it. Area Five's music was made up of a lot of duets, but it was also a lot of Andre's songs, with Pam supplying 'yeahs' or other such backup. Or her playing tambourine or some other percussion instrument. Which she hated ("Does anyone really _play_ the tambourine anyway?"). There were a few Pam songs, but that was nothing compared to Andre's and the duets. I was the only one privy to her solution to this problem¾she'd decided to pick up guitar herself.

I guess she was choosing now to debut this new skill. Surprise!

Jaws had dropped all around that damn basement at Pam's declaration. She reached behind the couch I was sitting on and extracted an iridescent pink case. Everyone (but me) was transfixed as she pulled a pastel teal electric guitar out and went back to where she had been standing.

Dumbstruck, Eric mumbled, "Okay then," and moved behind his drum kit. Bill began the opening guitar riff, and Pam was quick to follow with the rhythm. I was pretty impressed with her progress over half a year. I was, however, not impressed by Mr. Madden the bassist. Even though he shared a last name with another guitarist, skilled he was not. I didn't know the line to this song myself, but I had heard it before, and it didn't sound to complicated.

I felt like Victor was overcomplicating it. That, and he was just a shitty guitarist. The whole "package deal" thing wasn't looking too good for Felipe, who was actually pretty good. I looked over at Eric, whose face was an interesting mix of uninterested and angry. Something just told me he was pissed at Felipe and Victor (well, mostly Victor) for wasting his time.

The song finished and everyone remained in the same positions except Eric, who stood up and crossed the room. He ended up standing in front of my couch, with his ass in my face. It was a nice ass, for someone who was one the majority of the time. As soon as Eric moved, Bill plopped down next to me, pulling my feet up on his lap, while Pam carefully placed her guitar on a stand. She joined us on the couch shortly after.

Eric ran a hand through his hair before shaking it out and pulling it back.

"He's thinking of something to say," Pam whispered in my ear. Eric rubbed a hand over the scruff on his face, then widened his stance. "Aaaand…he's got something," Pam continued.

"There's really no delicate or tactful way to say this, so I'm just going to say it." Wait, when the fuck was Eric Northman ever tactful? He continued, "Are you willing to get rid of Victor, Felipe?" Silence descended on the basement. Bill took that moment to be a good host and take the members of the Venn diagram upstairs for drinks.

"What part of package deal didn't you understand, Northman?" Felipe spat back. Whoa snap.

"I guess the part where you didn't saddle yourself to a fucking shitty bassist. You're lucky I'm giving you the opportunity to fly solo. It's either that, or the door." Harsh, but kinda true. Victor did suck.

"The door then. Come on, Victor. I'd say thanks for the opportunity, but then I'd be lying." Victor heeled and then they both were gone.

Pam slid off of the couch and moved over to Eric. "Well, that was…fun. How about we call it a day and start working on some new material, with me on vocals and Sookie on bass." Poke the lion, why don't you, Pam? I readied myself for the verbal massacre that was about to occur.

Nothing happened. Well, Bill brought the rest of the auditioners back downstairs, but other than that, nothing happened. Eric glared at Pam and asked for the next duo auditioning to set up.

---

The rest of the acts to audition went much like that first act. By the end of the afternoon, we'd heard a good chunk of Area Five's catalog. We'd also heard a good portion of Eric's colorful vocabulary, as he went off on each and every person to sing or strum for him. He was still fuming from the last guy, a muscle-bound, bald, tattooed guy named Quinn, when Bill nudged me.

"Are we still gonna do this?" he asked, gesturing to my guitar case, which I had deposited not so far from where Pam stashed hers at the beginning of practice.

"Have you seen him? And he already doesn't like me. I'd rather not die." I was only half joking. I finally understood why Eric played the drums; if he didn't have somewhere to release all that energy, he'd explode.

"He practically begged me to invite you over today when he told me about calling a practice at the jazz club." I highly doubted that.

"Fine, fine. Let's just do this, then Eric can yell again and we all can move on." I stood up, straightening out my Strokes t-shirt and picking up my case. I plunked it down on the couch in order to pull out my bass while Bill stealthed over and picked up his guitar. After some minor adjustments, he began the opener to "Excuse Me Mr." by No Doubt. I really don't know why we picked that song, except that it was good, had a really audible bass line, and the whole damn song was ironic. Okay, so I lied, I knew _exactly _why we picked this song.

I started playing right before Pam jumped in and started singing. She jumped around in her skinny jeans and boho top, doing a damn good impression of Gwen Stefani. It didn't take long to get Eric's attention. Everybody had left by that point, so it was just us, Eric, and Tray. At one point during our impromptu performance, I saw Tray make a start for the drum kit and Eric growled.

Fucking growled.

I'll admit, it was kind of hot.

Tray sat back down on the couch, and I watched Eric cross the room and…unplug the amps. Strum, strum, strum, no dice. Then he left. Jackass. Pam, now having no instrument to tend to, tore up the stairs after him, screaming obscenities and really laying into him. I turned back to Bill, who had his hands in his pockets and his guitar across his back.

"If any one can talk sense into him, it's Pam," Bill reasoned.

"I don't fucking care anymore, Bill. I'm sorry, I just don't. He's a dick, and if he doesn't want me in the band, then fine. I'm out of here though. I'll see you later." I felt bad, honestly I did, because the band was Bill's life, and my giving up was basically the nail in the coffin. All the guys they auditioned were on this same skill level as Madden, or worst, and it seemed that Volusia County didn't have too much to offer by way of freelance bassists. If Eric felt like either running the band into the ground or choosing one of those guys, because of a hang up, then that was fine by me.

I packed my bass back into its hard case before carrying it out to my car. I heard the door open and close again as I popped the trunk on my Sentra. "I mean it Bill, drop it," I huffed as I put the case in the trunk and closing it. The footsteps got closer. "Bill…"

I turned around.

It wasn't Bill. It was Eric. His hair was down again and his hands were jammed into the pockets of his ripped, dark wash jeans. He also had that sad puppy look again.

"Join the band?"

* * *

**In the words of Sookie: Whoa snap. This is the longest chapter of Backbeat so far, so whoa snap to that too, lol. I don't really have to say here, except that submission for the Deadpan Contest opened on Thursday. Details here: http://www. fanfiction. net/u/2231715/Dead_Pan_Contest (remove spaces). I'm on zee beta list, so if you'd like to use my services, feel free to PM me.**

**The playlist has been updated, the link is still on the profile.**

**Oh, Rocktionary:**

**Lacey Mosley- Lead singer of Flyleaf, she was also the first female screamer I could think of. Might have been because I was listening to Memento Mori at the time.  
The 'other Madden guitarist'- a reference to Benji Madden of Good Charlotte, who plays guitar, I am aware, but both are forms of guitars, so yeah.**

**I think that's everything.**

**-Sydney**


	4. The Fixer

**A/N: Ok, I'm not gonna lie, this chapter is kinda filler. It does, however, answer the question of what happened between Eric's storm out and him asking Sookie to join the band. I also wanted to mention that I originally wanted to call this chapter 'Beautiful Disaster,' but I didn't think it fit, so I just went with the song I drew the quote from, which is dedicated to Pam, of course.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Four- The Fixer**

When something's lost, I wanna fight to get it back again.

-Pearl Jam, "The Fixer"

EPOV

I heard the entirety of Pam's loud, curse-filled rampage as she followed me up and out of the basement. We really needed to soundproof that thing. I'm surprised one of Bill's geriatric neighbors hasn't called and complained yet. I turned around in time to see her little blonde frame burst like a bat outta hell into Bill's living room.

"What the fuck, Eric?" she screeched. "She's leaving, you know. This was your last chance."

"Then let her leave. I don't give a fuck."

"Yes you do." She sighed heavily. "You're such a fucking baby, Eric." Never had I ever wished Pam was a man more than in that moment. My hand was itching to hit something.

"Fuck you, Pam. Fuck all of this." I grabbed my leather jacket from where it was draped over the couch and headed for the door.

"You know, Andre betrayed you just as much as Sophie did. They screwed all of us, Eric, not just you. Don't brush off one great bassist just because she's a girl. It was Soph and Andre that did this. Not Sookie, and not her instrument. Don't throw all of this away." I flexed my hands again. Pam was on my last nerve, but she was…right? Yeah, she was.

I jammed my hands in my pocket and walked outside, where I found Sookie loading her stuff into her tiny car.

"I mean it Bill, drop it," she huffed as she put the case in the trunk and closed it. I took a couple steps closer to her. "Bill…"

She turned around. I could tell that she was honestly shocked that I wasn't Bill.

"Join the band?"

"Excuse me?"

I just stared at her. I knew she heard me, there was no point in repeating myself. Sookie stepped toward me and poked her finger into my chest.

"You think you can just run me through the ringer, and then randomly pop out and ask me to join?" I shrugged. Nothing I would have said would have made a bit of difference anyway. Sookie continued to poke me in the chest about five more times before she hauled off and slapped me.

"Fuck you, Eric Northman," she reeled, walking over to the driver's side of her car. "I'll see you next practice. And I'm not doing this for you." She peeled out of Bill's driveway, flipping me the bird out her window. I shook my head before I walked back to the basement. I think I might have been smiling a bit, too.

The nanosecond I stepped in the room, Pam descended on me once again.

"She's in the band now, right? Right? Tell me you didn't fuck it up. Again."

"Nope, I didn't." I shrugged and flung myself on the couch the bassist auditioners had previously been occupying. "She's in. She slapped me, but she's in."

"Oh? Well, I can't say you didn't deserve it," commented Bill, right before slamming out some chords that sounded suspiciously like Radiohead. Pam snorted out a laugh and handed me a beer.

"Here's to you not being a complete fuck up," she toasted, smiling at Bill and sticking her tongue out at me.

"I'll drink to that." I looked up to see Tray coming back downstairs. Pam tossed him a beer, and I shot him a dirty look.

"So what's the plan, captain?" Pam asked, balancing her empty beer can on her knee.

"Practice tomorrow. We'll start on some fresh material. I trust one of the two of you can inform Sookie, since you seem two be so good at that." I glared at Pam and Bill. I wasn't completely out of the loop.

SPOV

I woke up the following morning with a smile on my face. There was something extremely satisfying about finally being a member of Area Five.

There was something even more satisfying about slapping Eric Northman.

After a few lazy minutes, I pulled myself out of bed and padded off to the bathroom. Half of my morning routine taken care of, I continued down the hall, stopping only to bang loudly on Jason's door. I really had no clue if he was in there or not; I couldn't recall him coming home last night, but he still had plenty of time to do so after I went to bed. It wasn't really my problem anyway. As long as he still came up with his half of the bills, he could sleep wherever he damn well pleased.

Jason and I lived in our Gran's condo, which overlooked the World's Most Famous Beach. She bought the condo a good ten years ago, after she and Grandpa Stackhouse were sick of renting and decided to stay for good. Jason and I came to visit every summer since they made the move, since I was eleven and Jason was fourteen. Jason came to live with Gran four years later, when he decided to go to Embry Riddle Aeronautical University. I came with Jason, to keep Gran company, since Grandpa Stackhouse had passed peacefully that same year. I finished high school in Daytona, where I met Tara and Bill. We were all currently doing the junior college thing at Daytona State, biding our time until we hit it big.

Gran wasn't around much anymore. She'd met a man, Fintan, and the two of them were constantly taking cruises all over the world. They popped by every now and then, bringing by gifts and making sure we weren't getting into too much trouble. Last time they popped by, six months ago, they brought black pearl jewelry for Tara and I, and Tehani Tiki pendants for Jason and Bill. I hadn't seen Bill without his since.

I continued into the kitchen, hoping I'd find some food there. The fridge was half-full when I last saw it, but that could mean anything when Jason was around. I had just pulled the last of the eggs out when I felt my cell phone buzz in my pocket.

**Practice 2:00pm.**

It was from Pam. I smiled to myself as I scrambled the eggs. This day was already looking good.

Jason stumbled out of his room about ten minutes later, looking fairly hungover. How he managed to finish college was beyond me.

"Food?" I offered, tipping the skillet so he could see its contents. He nodded and plopped down at the island. After I plated him some food, I slid a mug of coffee in front of him. He offered me a big smile in return. Personally, I couldn't stand the stuff (being a tea girl myself), but Jason rarely could function properly without his morning cup of java.

"Man, you're a good cook, sis," Jason commented after he'd taken a few sips from his mug. Jason was also more agreeable with food in him.

"Thanks, but you're just gonna have to fend for yourself for lunch, I have practice."

"That douchebag finally let you in the band?"

"Sure did. Pam just texted me about practice at Bill's at two." I pulled up the stool across from Jason's.

"Cool. I gotta go check out some stuff at the hangar, but I'm hoping to catch up with Dahlia at Crave tonight." I worked hard at suppressing the eye roll that was threatening to break through. Jason was never gonna get it. Whatever.

"'Kay. We'll probably see you there later then." Jason hopped up to clear the dishes, popping them into the washer before heading back to his room to get dressed. I went to the living room to watch some TV for awhile. A couple hours later, I pulled on a pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a lime green v-neck, and headed off to my first official band practice.

When I got to Bill's house, only his and Pam's cars were in the driveway. I shrugged and pulled in behind Bill's '70 Chevy Chevelle. He kept it in great shape, despite its age. Bill's house was pretty old too, old enough to require having a back house. It was also one of the small population of houses in Florida that had a basement.

After extracting my case and weaving around Pam's modest Elantra, I made my way around to the front door. I've had my own key for almost as long as I've known Bill, and I used it to let myself in. Bill was sitting Indian style on the dining room table, and Pam was sitting in one of the high-back chairs. They were munching on popcorn. I put my bass on the couch, along with my jacket, and joined them.

"No Eric?" I asked.

"He said he was getting some information on something, but that he'd be here shortly," Pam responded, patting the chair next to hers. I nodded, and the three of us sat around, talking and snacking until Eric strolled up from the basement about twenty minutes later. He was waving a piece of paper around like a moron.

"So nice of you to join us," Pam laughed. "Where's the fire?"

"No fire…contest," Eric breathed. He'd ran through the basement and upstairs looking for us.

"A contest?" I asked. "What kind of contest?" Eric put the paper between the three of us before hopping up onto the counter across from the table.

"Nickelback 'Rockstar' contest," Bill read aloud. "First prize is an opening slot on the Dark Horse tour's Orlando show," he continued. "No shit?" Bill looked over at Eric.

"No shit."

Pam took the paper and looked it over. "It says that we need to submit two videos: one of a Nickelback cover, the other of an original song. We also need a three song demo CD."

"We better get to work then," Eric smiled.

By 9:00pm that night, we were walking into Crave. We'd successfully written one new song and selected our Nickelback song to cover. Surprisingly enough, the whole practice went off without a single argument. We even planned on meeting again tomorrow.

As soon as we stepped foot inside Crave, Hadley bounced over to me. She was wearing black skinny jeans and a dark red, zebra print tank top. Her hair was down and kinda wavy. "You guys are looking awfully chummy," she commented once were out of earshot of the rest of my band.

"Bill's my best friend and I've been friends with Pam for like a year now, of course we look 'chummy,'" I air quoted at her.

Hadley pushed at my arm. "I know that, dumbass. I meant you and Eric."

I looked back at the tall blonde in question. "It's just a residual high from a great practice," I explained, turning back to my cousin.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Hadley laughed. "We're going on it a bit, so I'll catch up with you after." We hugged, and then she headed backstage. I met back up with my band. I _really_ liked the sound of that.

I spotted Bill and Pam at the bar, but Eric was holding us a table near the stage. He was peeling the label off of his bottle of beer. I slid into the seat across from him.

"You know, they say that doing that means you're sexually frustrated," I informed him, gesturing to the bottle peeling. He looked up at me and saw my smirk.

"I'm far from sexually frustrated, if you must know."

"Really? You'd think you wouldn't be so angry all the time if that were true," I challenged sarcastically. I knew I was ruining the perfect mood bubble we had built up all day, but damn it if it wasn't kinda fun.

"You'd think." He focused back on the bottle. "But you know what else they say?" I gestured for him to continue. "A good fuck makes you less of a bitch." I narrowed my eyes at him. "But that's just what I've heard," he finished with a smirk.

I opened my mouth to spit back a reply, but Pam and Bill chose that moment to reappear. Bill slid a gin and tonic in front of me before putting his own beer down.

The lights dimmed and Hadley's Comet took the stage. Dahlia stepped up to the microphone. She was wearing a fitted black dress, and her hair was swept to one side in a ponytail with a large, glittery black flower pinned in it. "Before we get started tonight, we just wanted to extend congratulations to our friend, Sookie, on becoming the newest member of Area Five." All the girls onstage clapped, and some people in the club offered hoots and hollers. Eric, on the other hand, was trying to divide a glare between me and Dahlia. She shot a look of her own at Eric before continuing, "Our first song tonight is our version of 'Beautiful Disaster' by 311."

As Arlene began her guitar intro, Tara made her way over to the side of the stage nearest our table and sat on the edge of the stage before she began playing, offering me a little wave. I waved back before I got up and headed over to the bar. While I was waiting for my drink, I saw my brother and some of his work friends sitting at the other table near the stage. Jason looked completely enthralled watching Dahlia move around on stage. A brunette girl even approached their table, sliding up between Jason and his best friend, Hoyt, but Jase just brushed her off, gesturing to Dahlia and then making a comment to Hoyt. I felt a presence beside me.

"Did you say something to Eric? He seems to be extra douchey since we got here," inquired Bill after he ordered three beers from the bartender.

"You know me," I shrugged. "I'm really good a pissing him off."

"He'll come around, just give him time," Pam added, coming up on my other side. She took her beer from Bill and took a sip. "He's still processing what Andre and Soph did. He'll be happier once we start for real on this Nickelback contest. It's something concrete."

"I know what the band means to all of you. It means that for me too. I just want to help."

"You already helped by joining, instead of kicking Eric in the nuts like he rightfully deserved," Pam replied. Bill and I both started laughing.

"I slapped him, if that helps," I offered. They both grinned at me. "What? I had my heart set on being in this band with you guys. Nothing Eric did would have changed my mind. The opening to slap him was just a bonus." I smiled.

Bill picked up the other two beers and we all made our way back to our table. Hadley and the girls began a second song, "Ex-girlfriend," and Eric was chatting up a bottle blonde who was very giggly, it seemed.

Well, okay then.

With Dye Job Barbie at the table, we were short one seat. Far be it from me to interrupt Eric's game, so I Bill's lap, with Pam sitting next to us. Damn, Barbie was giggly. I had to give her points for actually acknowledging the rest of us, and introducing herself as Ginger, but then she went right back to giggling at every fourth word Eric uttered. I sat back in my seat, exchanging a look with Pam.

At the end of the song, Ginger excused herself from our table, sliding Eric her number before wiggling her way out of the club.

"Wasn't she just swell?" Pam deadpanned. I watched Eric crumple up the number, jam it into his empty beer bottle, and give Pam the finger. Pam moved back to her seat¾I slid back into mine¾and promptly popped Eric on the back of the head. I stifled a laugh before looking back towards the stage; the girls were getting off the stage. I watched as Dahlia walked passed Jason's table. He pulled her over and said something, she nodded and blushed, and then the two of them made their way over to our table.

"Hey sis." I nodded at him. "Dahlia and I are gonna catch the late movie, catch y'all later. Good show too, Had." Hadley had come directly to our table. She smiled and then Jason and Dahlia were out the door.

"The five hundred and eighty-fourth time must be the charm," Hadley observed, laughing. "Now you certainly have something to look forward to going home to." She smirked at me. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not worried, they'll¾"

"They'll go to her place," Eric finished for me. My eyes darted over to him and he shrugged. I could feel the awkward silence descending.

"Well, it's been real fun and all, but we've got practice tomorrow. Sookie? Drive me back to Bill's?" Saved by the Pam. I nodded and we grabbed our jackets and bags. A couple minutes worth of goodbyes later, and we were out the door.

* * *

**Rock-tionary:**

**-Radiohead song reference: The song I'm referencing is "Creep," which I like mostly for that harsh chord I mentioned Bill playing.**

**-"Beautiful Disaster" is my favorite 311 song, and "Ex-Girlfriend" is by No Doubt. If you haven't noticed yet, I like No Doubt a lot, lol.**

**Other notes:**

**-Bill house is a real place and is based off one of my friend's houses. It's a really cool old house. It creaks and everything.**

**-The venue Crave is also a real place, except it's at a Christian school, and it's part of a youth group thing. It does, however (or at least it used to), host local bands, and it's a pretty cool place. My Crave, while also cool, is vastly different. I mostly just liked the name.**

**All songs mentioned in this chapter are being added to the playlist, and the link to that is on my profile.**

**-Sydney**


	5. Again

**A/N: *waves* Hi everybody! Once again, I know it's been a while, but I'm keeping with my rotation, and this is also my second week in a row updating something, so yay for that. Anyway, I don't have anything story related to address yet, so just thanks for all of your continued support and I'll shut up and get to the story.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Five- Again**

You make me come  
You make me complete  
You make me completely miserable  
-Lit, "Miserable"

EPOV

I clicked out of the internet browser I'd been looking at when I heard music start to thump from the basement. I'd just favorited some websites of companies that soundproofed; I just needed to show them to Bill.

Pam hadn't returned from her lunch run, so I knew practice hadn't restarted without me, but I was curious anyway, so I made my way down the stairs to investigate. The first thing I noticed was that the door to the room was slightly ajar, which explained why I could hear the music even more loudly than was the standard around here. I nudged the door open with my foot, seeing as I was currently double fisting a beer and my laptop, and I nearly dropped the whole lot of it when I saw what was doing in Bill's basement.

The previously unidentifiable song turned out to be Marilyn Manson's 'The Beautiful People.' But that wasn't the important part. Hell, it wasn't even the first thing that I noticed, which was surprising considering that the stereo was turned up as loud as it could go without blowing anything. No, the first thing I noticed was Sookie.

She was shaking her ass around the basement. Well, I think she might have been tidying up too…who knew? Regardless, she was bouncing around in leather shorts and fishnets, fishnets that were tucked into little black leather ankle boots. Her shirt might have been green. Maybe.

Pulling my eyes away from Sookie, I noticed that Bill was sprawled out on the couch, smoking a cigarette. Bastard was down here getting a free show while I was upstairs looking at AcoustiPack online.

"Hey," Bill greeted. Sookie spun around at the additional sound. Oh, yeah, her shirt was green alright. Dark green, in fact. A button-down. She had one button done, right under her chest, and a black lacy bra on underneath. Someone was ready to be a video vixen today.

"So which one of you is subjecting your arthritic neighbors to the musical stylings of Manson?" I asked, looking between both of them.

"That would mostly likely be Sookie," interjected Pam, who was entering the basement with several bags from Subway. "She makes me endure that shit in her car."

"Manson isn't shit, Pam," I replied, looking over at Sookie, who had her mouth open in preparation of spitting out a similar retort. She closed it and smiled before walking over and grabbing a bag from Pam.

"Like making me listen to Duran Duran when you're driving is any better," Sookie laughed as she started spreading out her bag's bounty on the card table we'd unfolded in the basement. I barked out a laugh of my own before sneaking over to see if Sookie's bag held my sandwich as well.

We'd been spending the last four days at Bill's continuously, leaving the basement only to shower and sleep, or in cases like this one, waiting for whoever's name was drawn to return with food. We finished our other two songs for our demo, and recorded it yesterday with Tray. For our original video, we decided on one of our first songs, the first Pam had written, 'Again.'

Pam had deposited herself on the couch opposite Bill after unceremoniously dropping his sub and chips on his lap. He grunted a thanks in response. That left me sitting with Sookie at the little square table. I watched as she lifted the bread lid off her turkey sub and layered half her bag of Lays' Salt and Vinegar chips onto the levels of turkey, cheese, and pickles inside. Sookie's sandwich tastes were far more simplistic than mine, I noted as I looked down at my own BMT, loaded with almost every vegetable that Subway offered. Except cucumbers. Who the fuck puts cukes on their sub?

I looked back up at Sookie when her sandwich made that tell-tale crunching noise. She caught me looking and smiled again. The song playing on the stereo now was Blue Oyster Cult's 'I'm Burnin' For You.'

"Is this your iPod?" I asked.

"Uh huh. Got a problem with that?" she sassed.

"Not at all," I returned, taking a sip of my beer. "Just an interesting mix you've got there, Stackhouse. Manson to Blue Oyster Cult, who knew you were so diverse."

Sookie smirked. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Northman." She stood up from the table and my eyes traveled down to her leather shorts again. At the moment, I wanted to know if her panties matched that fuckhot lace bra she was showing off. Sookie tracked my line of sight with her own.

"They'd match…if I were wearing any." She winked and sauntered off to get another soda.

Fuck. Me.

…

SPOV

Spending four days non-stop with my bandmates taught me a few things. One, Subway was the restaurant of champions, what with their infinite amount of choices and their five-dollar footlongs. Two, five-dollar footlongs lead to an infinite amount of dick jokes. And third, it is really, really fun to mess with Eric.

When, I'd told him I wasn't wearing any panties, I wasn't lying. There wasn't a single pair of panties I owned that didn't cause a visible panty line, or VPL, as Pam would say. And I owned a lot of panties. But Pam insisted that the leather shorts were the way to go for the video shoot, so there I was. If memory serves me correctly, she was also the one who convinced me to buy them, saying that "everyone needs a pair of leather pants." Obviously, I'd got her compromise. I mean, we live in Florida for fuck's sake.

After nabbing a second soda from the cooler we'd brought down two days ago, after we'd decided that not even beverages were worth leaving the basement for, I sat back down across from Eric, who hadn't said a word in the three and a half minutes it took me to get said soda. If Pam and Bill weren't so engrossed in their sandwiches, they would have said something. They got as big of a kick out of me fucking around with Eric as I did.

'Amber' by 311 and 'Cherry Pie' by Warrant had played through by the time Eric spoke again.

"So, um, Bill," he coughed. "Did you get the keys to your neighbors' van?"

As ancient as Bill's neighbors were, the couple that lived to the right of him were just the sweetest things ever. I mean, hell, they haven't complained once at any of Area Five's practices. They were also nice enough to let us use their Chrysler Pacifica.

"Yep. As soon as we're done with lunch we can head over to Crave."

…

Forty minutes later and we were on the road. Pam and Eric rode over in the Pacifica while Bill and I followed in my Sentra, with all of our clothes chilling in garment bags in the backseat. Pam had demanded that we wear two different sets of outfits, one for our original video and one for our Nickelback video. Bill and I had changed during the break before lunch, and he was currently wearing a black and grey striped Henley and black jeans. His studded leather jacket was hanging in the backseat. When I asked where his second outfit was, he told me that he was wearing the jacket in the Nickelback video, but not in the one for 'Again.' It wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway, Bill's wardrobe was rather uncomplicated and monochromatic. He made it look good though.

After we parked, the guys started to unload the equipment while Pam and I moved the clothes inside. That didn't take very long, so we went back outside to meet the guys (now plus Tray, our cameraman) and take our own guitar cases indoors. The only other person present for our shoot was Crave's owner, Steph. She was standing at the bar when Pam and I reentered, guitars in hand. After we put our cases down, she waved us over.

"You guys are more than welcome to use my office as a dressing room. I know how cramped those stalls can be." She smiled before passing Pam and I a beer each. Then she leaned in conspiratorially. "The guys can just suck it up." We all laughed.

Bill, Eric, and Tray finished setting up our equipment and Steph rewarded them with beers of their own. When we attempted to pay her, she waved her hand at us, saying that "all the beer in the world couldn't compare to the publicity we were bringing the bar."

…

It was a little after five by the time we'd rehearsed both numbers a couple times and everyone changed. We'd also filmed a couple interior shots of us practicing and playing and just interacting. The bar needed to be empty for those shots, but the bulk of our performance videos were going to be shot with us playing to a live audience.

Apparently, people really come out of the woodwork when you advertise that you're filming a couple of music videos. The house was packed by six-thirty. "Wow, people," I said out loud to no one in particular.

"Nervous?" Pam inquired as she slid up beside me. She'd changed before we started shooting the empty bar shots. She traded her jeans and 311 shirt for a white tunic dress that was covered in huge multicolor flowers. It was decided earlier that she wanted to be barefoot for the first number.

She stepped up to the mic as everyone got in their places, and thanked everyone for coming out and explaining what the hell was going on in case they weren't aware. I could see Tray perched on a chair, on top of a table, in the back of the club. I could also see my cousin with a camera of her own in the front row, with the rest of her band.

"This one's called, 'Again,'" Pam introduced before turning to look at us. Eric and Bill began to play, shortly followed by Pam. Pam had told me earlier in the week that when Area Five originally played this song, she loved it because she could really move around while she was singing. She still loved it though, as it was her first song.

Towards the end of the song, I turned around and got a good look at Eric. It was during a chorus, and the drumming was really forceful, so I could see all of his muscles working double-time underneath the tight navy v-neck he was wearing. His hair was loosely pulled back, and he looked fantastic. I swallowed roughly and turned my way back around so as to not fuck up any of my chords. Yeah. Right.

Once the song finished, Pam excused us for a ten minute break to get changed. She and I retreated to the office, while the guys executed a two-second quick change, much to the delight of the female audience members. Eric stripped off his t-shirt, changing it out for a black wife beater, while Bill decided to forego the Henley and slipped his jacket on over his naked torso.

Once we were back in the office, Pam whipped off her tunic dress and slid into a pair of leather pants that had two lace panels on the sides in place of side seams. On top she put on a sequined bolero jacket, buttoned the one button it had, and she was set. Her stomach was toned, and all that black stood out against her fair skin.

I waited until Pam had scooted out of the office before changing my pants. Pam was my best girl friend and all, but there were some things even she didn't need to see. I swapped my leather shorts and stockings for a pair of white and red pinstripe capris, and slid my feet into a pair of four-buckle red patent leather Mary Janes. For my top, I picked out a white halter top corset that had a pink plaid print and cherry all over it. It was sweet, but my more-than-generous endowment made it sexy in a classic kind of way. I pinned part of my hair back before leaving the office myself.

I was positively stoked for our Nickelback song. It took us a while to decide on which song to pick, and we pretty much went through their entire catalogue before deciding on 'S.E.X.' We wanted something provocative, and of course something that was going to get us noticed, and we figured having a girl singing those lyrics would be just the thing. Pam was explaining our song choice to the crowd without actually using the title as I made my way on stage. I heard a couple a wolf whistles, one of which came from Pam. I laughed it off and picked up my bass.

I was also excited about this song because I was the one who got to start it. Actually, it was mostly Eric and I on the melody for the majority of the song. The crowd cheered loudly once they realized what song it was, and they stayed pretty hype for the whole thing. Pam had taken to clapping out the beat when she wasn't playing, and some of the audience had taken to copying her.

For this performance, someone had moved a second mic next to Pam's, and it was for me. On our, like, second time rehearsing this song, Bill had suggested that I "yeah" along with Pam when the song called for it. Everybody liked it, so that's what we went with. I'm by no means a singer, but I guess everyone can "yeah."

We finished our second song to even more applause than the first one, and then we decided to break for some drinks. Hadley and the girls hopped up onstage to keep the natives from getting restless.

I was sitting at the bar when I felt a pair of hands slide onto my shoulders. Swiveling around on my stood, I turned to see a man I didn't know. "Hi?" I tried lamely. He wasn't unattractive, he was just kind of off-putting.

"That corset is very becoming on you," he started.

"Um, thanks?" I really thought he'd either just leave post-comment or offer a drink or something. But then he had to go and talk again.

"But, then again, if I was on you, I'd be coming too." I think I just passed beer through my nose.

I couldn't form a coherent thought for all the laughing, which turned into coughing and sputtering, and my would-be Romeo still couldn't take a hint. He even went so far as to place a hand on my thigh while I was trying to keep the beer in my mouth. Maybe spitting it all over him would've done the trick. I'd never know, because the minute his hand made contact with my leg, Romeo was being hauled backwards off of the stool he'd perched himself upon.

I managed to stop laughing long enough to see Eric holding Romeo by the collar of his denim jacket. "When the lady is no longer laughing _with_ you, it's usually the time to cut your losses, and not molest her further," Eric stated smoothly before tossing Romeo to Tray, who unceremoniously kicked him out of the bar.

"I was handling that just fine, you know," I admonished Eric, setting my beer bottle on the bar and secretly being thrilled by his little display of chivalry. "Although it was mighty nice of you to defend my honor and virtue," I continued, laying on a cheesy southern accent.

Eric leaned over me, which wasn't hard to do at his height, his chest coming in contact with my back. "We both know that there is little that is virtuous about you, Stackhouse," he whispered, his hot breath tickling my ear. Before I could issue a retort, Eric plucked himself a beer of his own and disappeared back into the crowd.

…

EPOV

Later that night, Bill, Tray, and I packed our equipment back into our borrowed Pacifica. "Did something happen with Sookie? She seemed…different when I saw her on her way to the office," Bill inquired.

So I finally did get to her, and it looked like she couldn't take it as well as she could dish it. "Some frat boy with a cheesy pickup line tried to hit on her, and I stepped in. My chivalry could have pissed her off?"

Bill and Tray both laughed. "Probably. She really doesn't like the suggestion that she can't take care of herself." I shrugged before sliding my floor tom into the car. I looked up and back towards the bar at the sound of feminine giggling. Sookie and Pam were making their way over with the clothes, and Sookie appeared to be telling Pam the story of her drunken suitor.

"…then he said, 'But, then again, if I was on you, I'd be coming too!'" she said before pitching forward in another fit of giggles, Pam following behind her. Sookie was still wearing her second outfit, and the way she was leaning forward gave me a nice view of her cleavage peaking out from her corset. She stood back up straight and continued walking over to her car.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time; it was a little after two a.m. "Anyone up for heading back to my place?" It probably would have been a good idea to call it a night, but I didn't usually go with the good ideas.

* * *

**I'm putting up pictures of Pam's two outfits, Sookie's corset and the inspiration for Sookie's leather shorts. I'm also going to post two banners that I've been sitting on for awhile. One is of Hadley's Comet, and the other is of Area Five as I'd imagine them. And I'm proud to say that everyone I've cast (so far), with the exception of Askars, is a musician. Most of them don't play the right instruments, well actually all of them except for Dahlia and Bill *shrugs*. Also, every single song mentioned in this chapter is going on the playlist.**

**Anyway, Rock-tionary:  
****-Just a thought: I know I said in ch.3 (?) that Pam couldn't scream like Lacey Mosley (Flyleaf), but here I have her singing a Flyleaf song. I imagine her voice to be the closest to Pam's, Pam just can't scream (musically, that is ;)). Just wanted to clear that up.  
****-AcoustiPack is a real soundproofing material. I googled it, lol.  
****-Also, I personally have nothing again Duran Duran. In fact, I like them quite a lot.**

**Special thanks to beatlechicksteph for volunteering to be a character :)**

**-Sydney**


	6. The Curse of Curves

**Chapter Six- The Curse of Curves**

_I've got the gift of one-liners_  
_And you've got the curse of curves._  
Cute Is What We Aim For, "The Curse of Curves"

SPOV

"Anyone up for heading back to my place?" I looked up at the sound of Eric's voice. Moving back around my car, I rejoined the others.

"Sure, but we gotta get this shit back to my place and the van back to Ms. Olivia," Bill replied as he shrugged out of his leather jacket.

"Right. So how about you and Pam take the jacket and clothes back to your house, and I'll go with Sookie back to my house. Sookie," he looked at me, "give me a ride?" He was leering a little bit, and I rolled my eyes and nodded.

The highlight of driving with Eric took place before we even hit the road. I had to bite my tongue to stop from cackling as he tried to contort his six and a half foot frame into the tiny passenger seat in my Sentra. Bill barely fit, and he just grazed six feet.

"Comfy?" I couldn't help but ask. Eric looked over at me- he was almost kissing his knees- and raised an eyebrow. I nodded sheepishly and put the car in gear.

The ride to Eric's house was silent, interestingly enough. He still had full use of his arms, and he used them to mess with the radio. Once we got on the highway out past Port Orange, I was in need of directions from my cramped companion.

"It's the second exit," Eric told me, and it was another silent fifteen minutes until I was pulling off the exit into Edgewater. "Turn left at the stoplight," he continued. The stoplight? Which stoplight? I was about to voice my questions out loud, but then I got a good look around. I saw the stoplight; it was the only one on the whole stretch of road. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have now entered B.F.E.

Bum Fuck Edgewater.

I had to make a quick turn down Eric's "driveway," a narrow dirt path that wound down through a cluster of trees. If you didn't know that it was there, you'd drive right past it. The driveway led up to a garage, a garage that was attached to a pretty sizable, rustic-looking house. "You can pull into the garage," Eric offered, producing a key ring from his pocket.

"Thanks." I offered him a smile as he pressed a button on the key chain door opener. It was a kind of weird, silent impasse we were in, and it was a far cry from where we were at Crave. I pulled into the garage, which I noticed had little in it. There were a few drum heads propped up against one wall, along with a box of sticks. In the far corner, there was a trash can, a recycling bin full of plastic orange juice cartons, and a washer/dryer combination.

After getting out of my car, Eric led through a door that was next to the washing machine, pressing the door close button over my head. "Home sweet home," he remarked as he pulled the door closed behind us. He reached over me again, over my shoulder this time, and flipped a light switch, illuminating the hallway we were standing in.

"Um, where's your bathroom," I questioned. Eric slid past me quickly, his cotton-covered chest coming in contact with my bare shoulder. He took a couple steps down the hall before tapping his hand on the wall next to another door. I murmured my thanks and ducked under his arm and into the bathroom.

I heard his footsteps travel further up the hall as I studied my reflection in the mirror. After wiping off some escaping mascara from under my eyes, I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail; Florida heat is just not conducive to long hair.

After exiting the bathroom, I continued my way down the hall we'd come in to. There were a few people scattered around already, but none of my bandmates. I could hear some music going and the intermittent sound of a blender whirring.

"Hey!" I heard someone call out. Looking ahead, I saw a girl who was a little bit shorter than me, with curly shoulder-length brown hair and glasses. She was wearing skinny jeans and black stiletto boots, with a flowy red tank top on that was covered in sequins. I didn't know her, but it didn't appear that she knew me either. "Did you just come from the bathroom? Wait, that sounds creepy…I mean, can you point me in its direction?"

I laughed and nodded. "It's just back that way, the only open door," I responded, pointing to where I came from.

"Thanks!" she called out as she passed me.

Continuing down the hall, I found my way into Eric's massive living room. There were various couches strewn about, including pieces from a very fancy-looking set. A pool table sat off in one corner, and the entire back wall was covered by a massive entertainment center. To the left was a long counter, and past that was an equally impressive kitchen. As it turned out, Eric was the one currently manning the blender. I walked over and hopped up on the counter next to him.

"What's in the blender?" I asked.

"Punch," he replied easily, pressing the stop button on the machine.

"Thanks for that, Captain Cryptic. Can we be a little more specific?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. Just try some." He produced a plastic cup and poured some of the drink into it before handing it to me. I took a sip, my eyes never leaving Eric's.

I took awhile to answer due to the smooth burn of the alcohol going down my throat. "Pretty good. I'm a little worried because you won't tell me what's in it, but it's good." Eric smiled triumphantly and moved to stand in between my legs.

"Trust me, Stackhouse. It's not going to kill you." _No, but you standing so close might_. I ignored him and took another sip of my drink.

I looked past Eric and smiled as I saw the brunette that I directed to the bathroom earlier. "Thanks for the direction, I'm Liz by the way." Eric moved back to the blender as we shook hands and I introduced myself.

"So how did you find out about the party?" I asked. "I didn't have any clue it was going to be such a production tonight."

She smiled back as she pushed a curly lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, my boyfriend and I were driving back to New York from Fort Lauderdale, and my friend told me about your show," she pointed to a redhead in a floral dress who was talking to Pam. She waved back at us when she realized she was spotted. "Sydney got a text from Pam about the party, so we tagged along." Liz smiled at her boyfriend, who had just secured two more cups from Eric.

Two hours later and we were all smashed. I was currently sitting on one of the couches, with my head on Pam's lap, after Liz and I suffered our one and only loss at Beer Pong. It was someone's brilliant idea to play it with Eric's punch instead of beer. Liz and company had bowed out about half an hour ago, with the redhead as their D.D.

"How am I gonna get home, Pammy?" I slurred as I looked up at her. Pam never drank; I wasn't sure why.

"Well I could drive you, but Bill was already crashing here, so I figured I would as well. But you can go talk to Eric," she suggested. I looked over at Bill who was sleeping on a couch across the room.

"Eric? Why would I want to talk to him? And where is he anyway?" I sat up quickly before going right back in Pam's lap.

"I don't know, it was just a suggestion. Anyway, I'm going to sleep. Night, Sookie." She lifted my head off her lap and set it back down before disappearing down the hallway that led to the garage. I snuggled down into the couch and went to sleep myself.

EPOV

I'd popped into my room shortly after the Beer Pong tournament had started. Well, Punch Pong. Normally, I would've played myself, but I was really anxious to look at the video we'd shot at the club. I was almost completely finished editing the first video when there was a small knock on the door. At first I wasn't even sure it was a knock or a drunken wanderer, but a couple moments later Sookie had plunked herself down on the spare rolling chair in the room. A very drunk Sookie. She spun around in the chair and pushed herself over, right next to me.

"Whaaaatcha lookin' at?" she drawled, hints of her Louisiana accent peeking out.

"Our music videos. Don't you wanna go lay down? You can use any of the rooms, you know."

She looked at me like I was crazy. "I already slept, silly. And then I woke up, and everyone else was still asleep, but then I remembered that Pam said I should go talk to you. So here I am!" She spread her arms out in front of her before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"Pam said you should talk to me?" I knew logical thought was probably out of Sookie's reach at the moment, but that part of her explanation struck me as odd.

"She said I should talk about sleeping with you." My jaw dropped and Sookie giggled again. "No, not sleeping _with_ you." Her brow furrowed and she hiccupped. "Talk with you, about sleeping?"

"O…kay…" It got really quiet after that, so I turned back to my computer to continue working. Several minutes later, just as I'd thought that Sookie had fallen back asleep in the rolling chair, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Eric, do you think we're gonna be famous?"

"I don't know, Sookie. I'd like to think so. I hope so." I looked over at her and smiled before going back to the screen.

"Yeah, me too." I put a couple of different angled shots together before she spoke again. "Eric?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for letting me in the band," she sighed. "I know you didn't want to, but thanks." She put her head on my shoulder.

"I…I…" I really didn't know what to say to that. While it was true that I didn't want to at first, and she still drove me crazy about eighty percent of the time, I was starting to enjoy having Sookie around. And maybe for more than the obvious reasons. I looked down at Sookie and noticed that she'd already fallen back asleep.

I picked her up as gently as I could and walked her over to the couch, setting her down. I dug around in one of the hall closets for a minute to get Sookie a blanket before digging around in my desk to find a set of earbuds. After plugging them in, I looked back at Sookie, who was out like a light, with one arm above her head, and the other with her hand in a fist tucked under her chin. Her lips were slightly parted and some of her hair had fallen out of her ponytail. I smiled to myself before going back to the computer to finish our contest entry videos.

One hour later, Sookie was still asleep, and I was labeling the disc that contained our songs and our videos. I slipped it into a jewel case and set it on top of the bubble envelope it was going to be mailed in, because we were having some sort of ceremonial CD sendoff tomorrow. Hopefully this would be our big break.

* * *

***peeks out from behind laptop* Well, this has certainly been a long time coming, but there it is. I'm back. I just want to go on the record stating that I will not abandon any of my stories, and no matter how long it takes me to complete them, I will complete them. As far as this story goes, we're finally about to get to the "interesting" stuff, and it's the stuff that I'm looking the most forward to.**

**A couple of notes on this chapter:**  
*** The cameo appearance made in this chapter by Lubadub (Liz) is -now- a VERY belated birthday gift. In fact, if I'd waited a few months longer to finish this chapter, it'd almost be her birthday again. Wow. Shame on me.**  
*** Eric's house, like Bill's house, is based on the house of someone I know. And yes, it really is that far out in the middle of nowhere. And there was only one streetlight.**  
*** I have no clue why I included a bunch of empty OJ containers in Eric's garage. Maybe he's fighting scurvy really, really hard. Yeah, let's go with that.**  
*** I also have no clue what's actually in Eric's mystery punch. I do know that it's definitely red in color, though why I know that, I don't know. While I was writing, I kinda imagined a really alcoholic, frozen sangria type of thing.**

**Also, the next chapter is already underway, and there will be a bit of a time jump, as we are fast forwarding to the results of the Nickelback contest. Hmm, I wonder who wins… ;)**


	7. Crushcrushcrush

**Weeeeel...here I am. And here it is...I hope it's up to par. I legitimately have no excuse for why it took me god-knows-how-long to update anything. I know that this was the last thing I updated (I think?) and I honestly don't remember what was next on rotation, but this was what was coming to me, so this was what I wrote first. For those of you who also read Allegro, I swear I'm going to finish that next, and it's mostly done as a matter of fact. I hope there are still some of you with me on this journey, because this was the chapter I had laid out in my head since I started writing this story and it's gonna get way more interesting after this (at least I think so). Also, no matter how long it takes me to update things (and I'm hoping I'll be more regular since I'll be flexing my writing chops more frequently when I start my writing minor this fall) I absolutely will not abandon any of these stories. I know how frustrating that is, and I'd never do it. So these stories will have a conclusion at some point, I can guarantee that. Additionally, I've tried something new (to me at least) for an upcoming project. Well, two new things actually. I'm writing the entire thing before posting any of it, for one. So there's that. I'm also going to have that story beta'd so I can know a little of what it's like to be on the writer side of that. I know some of you are screaming at your computer, "what? another one? you aren't even updating the ones you have going?" but that's exactly why I'm finishing it before I'm posting it AND you can actually thank that story because it's the one I've been working on while I've been blocked for my ongoing ones, and I'm pretty sure it's got me out of my slump for now. So there's also that. And now I'm gonna shut up and let you get on with it.**

**Special thanks to afalcone10 for pre-reading this baby and providing me with hilarious commentary. I finally understand why that's so awesome. Love ya!**

**The story so far (because I'm sure we need a recap): Sookie is a bassist who recently joined Eric, Pam, and Bill's band, Area Five, much to Eric's initial chagrin. The band was out a bassist and vocalist after Sophie Anne and Andre made an abrupt exit. The newly-formed Area Five entered a contest to open for Nickelback, filmed some music videos for said contest, and then had a party at Eric's house after said filming. This is the next morning.**

**Wow, not a lot has happened so far, how the hell are we on chapter 7 already? Anyway, I'm sure that recap sucked, so I wouldn't be offended if you had to reread. Sorry for the delay once again.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven- Crushcrushcrush**

I got a lot to say to you  
Yeah, I got a lot to say  
I noticed your eyes are always glued to me  
Keeping them here  
And it makes no sense at all

Paramore, "crushcrushcrush"

SPOV

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I noticed was that I wasn't on the same couch I originally fell asleep on. As I looked around, I remembered wandering in here to find Eric, but nothing other than that. I groaned as I sat up, and then promptly flopped back down. My head was killing me.

I was highly tempted to deliver a junk punch to Eric for making that punch. Tray would get one too for suggesting we play Punch Pong. I could only imagine how much worse for wear he was, with all the losing he was doing.

I managed to successfully sit up on the second try. Thankfully I wasn't feeling pukey, just extremely throbby. I needed aspirin in the worst possible way. Looking around the room again, I saw a large glass of water and a bottle of Bayer on Eric's desk. I took two and downed the water before making my way to the living room.

"Whoever left me the aspirin is getting a kiss," I announced loudly to the empty room.

"We're in the kitchen," responded Pam. "And I'm ready for my kiss, Stackhouse."

"Very funny," I laughed, maneuvering my way into the kitchen. Wrapping my arm loosely around her shoulder, I aimed a kiss for Pam's cheek. Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for Eric and Tray, who were watching with rapt attention, Pam turned to face me and we connected at the lips. My eyes went wide, and I managed to overcome my shock and pull back just as Pam's tongue touched my lips.

I heard both Eric and Tray suck in a breath as Pam laughed. "Tasty," she commented, slapping my ass for good measure. I rolled my eyes, like my best girl friend didn't just try to French me "accidentally."

Eric and Tray were practically statues as I squidged my way between them to get at the bag of bagels that was there. They still didn't move as I leaned over Eric to grab the tub of cream cheese, but their eyes were tracking my movements. I smirked as I craned up to get as close to looking Eric in the eyes as I possibly could. I ran my finger over his bottom lip and then down his chin.

"You're drooling," I whispered before skipping out of the kitchen behind Pam.

xXx

When Eric finally recovered and Bill had woken up, we all piled into my car and drove to the post office to send off our contest submission. We took turns kissing the padded envelope before handing it over to the highly confused post office employee. We celebrated the send off with Aunt Catfish's spectacular brunch buffet and laughed over what we could remember about the previous night.

It wasn't until one month later that we heard back from the Nickelback people. We'd known from the contest website that every band would be notified, whether they were the chosen one or one of the many, many disappointed passovers. So it wasn't like notification guaranteed us anything.

We were sitting in Bill's basement when Eric's phone rang. Bill had pulled out his acoustic guitar and was just messing around with riffs while Pam sang random harmonies along with his playing. None of us were up to practicing, since we'd been at it almost non-stop since submitting our CD, but none of us wanted to sit in silence or go home either. So there we were.

Eric casually sat up and dug his phone out of his pocket before answering it. He said a few yeahs very calmly before saying, "Thank you very much" and hanging up the phone before setting it beside him.

"So," he started out. "It seems we're one of ten finalists in the contest." He'd barely gotten the last few words out before Pam had launched from where she was sitting and tackled Eric.

"Shut the fuck up!" she screeched. Then she sat up, still on top of Eric, and socked him square in the shoulder. "How the fuck are you so calm about this?" she asked, still borderline screeching.

Eric looked up at her for a minute, and then a stupid grin spread across his face. For a minute, I thought he was going to get up and bounce around like I knew Pam was dying to do. Instead, she rolled off of Eric and jumped on my couch to hug me.

"So what does this mean?" Bill, ever the practical one, asked. It should be mentioned though that Bill was wearing a stupid grin that matched Eric's.

"Our CD, and the other nine finalists', now goes on to be judged by Nickelback themselves." Pam screeched again, and it was right in my ear.

After that bit of great news, we were miraculously more motivated to practice, even working some of Bill's random riffs into bits of new songs. We practiced our asses off for the following month, and I secretly hoped that all of our optimism wasn't for nothing.

Turned out it wasn't.

Almost exactly one month from the day we found out we were finalists, Eric received a text message from the same number that called him the first time. In it was a link to a page on the contest's website, and a password.

Pam practically tripped trying to get upstairs to get a laptop, taking the stairs three at a time. She was slightly more cautious on the return trip, and I think it was because she knew that if she killed that laptop, she'd have to repeat the process all over again. She skidded to a halt in front of the couch Bill and I were sitting on, and Eric was laying in front of, and plopped down between me and Bill. Eric practically crawled over us in an effort to see the screen.

Looking past the 6-foot-plus man-child on my lap, I watched intently as Pam pulled up the website and typed in the password. We all waited impatiently while a blank video screen buffered, and Pam and I both screamed when text appeared on the screen reading, "Congratulations, Area Five!"

The text quickly gave way to a shot of Chad Kroger and the rest of the band. "Area Five," Chad began, "congratulations on being the winners of the Rockstar Contest. We really dug your unique sound, and the fact that you had two hot chicks at the front for a song about sex." He laughed and looked to his bandmates, who nodded and laughed along. Pam high-fived me. "So now you'll have to get back to practicing, devise a set list using the songs you submitted, and we look forward to meeting you in Orlando." The little video ended and Pam barely got the laptop into Bill's hands before she was bouncing around the basement.

xXx

_Two months later…_

We ended up arriving at the Amway Arena a full hour ahead of our call time, thanks to Eric's led foot. I wasn't aware that Ms. Olivia's van could top one hundred. It was also raining when we got there, so we were soggy as well as early as we stood in front of the arena's backstage entrance. The security guard that was standing there took one look at us, smiled and asked, "Area Five?" We nodded, and Eric handed the man the pass that had been mailed to us. "Great. Let's get you inside to dry off and I'll call someone up to unload your instruments and park your van." He opened the door behind him and ushered us through before turning his attention to his walkie-talkie.

"I could get used to this," I commented as I linked arms with Pam as we made our way down a long hallway. We were about halfway down the hall when a woman came out of the door at the end, talking into a headset.

"I've got them. They're soaking wet. Get someone from hair and makeup ready for them," she said into the tiny microphone. She then clicked a button and flipped the mic down, away from her mouth. "Area Five," she said by way of a greeting. "I'm Holly, the assistant stage manager. You guys are early, but that's a good thing due to the weather. I'll take you guys to hair and makeup, and then wardrobe if you need it. We thought you might bring your own clothes, but I got a couple of things, for the ladies in particular, if you're interested." Holly started walking, and we started following.

"We brought our own, but we'd love to take a look. Right, Sookie?" Pam was wearing a smile that threatened to crack her face. Clothes whore.

"Um, yeah, that's fine. Our clothes are in the van, Holly."

"Of course. They'll be brought in with the rest of your equipment." Holly led us into a room that had a bunch of temporary vanities set up, with a partition down the middle. "Now, Sookie, you and Pam will be set up over here." She led us to the far side of the partition, where a man was waiting with two huge cases in hand. "This is Armand. He'll do your makeup and hair." Holly smiled at us and then went back to the boys.

Armand was nice. Quick, too. In less than an hour, Pam and I were made up and styled. Armand had curled my hair, and it was way better than it had been when I'd done it myself before we hit the road. He'd also braided in a few feather hair extensions. Pam's hair was done up in kind of a fauxhawk ponytail thing, and it had glitter streaks throughout. Holly reappeared shortly after Armand left, and she brought the clothes she'd picked out as well as our own with her on a rolling rack. "You all look great. I'll leave you to the clothing selection. When you're done, come to the room directly across the hall. The boys will be in there. Then you'll do your sound check." And she was gone again.

"Yeah, we could definitely get used to this," Pam gushed as she looked at the clothes Holly'd brought in. I laughed; Pam doesn't gush. "Here, you should try this on." She handed me a white lace corset dress that had gathered lace on the bottom that hung around the back and one of the sides. I paired that with the fishnets and black combat boots that I'd brought with me, while Pam found a black sequined bustier that she paired with the long leather skirt she'd ordered offline just for tonight. She was going barefoot onstage, as was Pam's standard, so she slid back into her flip-flops.

We met the boys in the room across the hall, which turned out to be the green room. There was a buffet table covered in food and drinks, and there were people running around in every direction. I spotted Eric and Bill lounging on a couch; Eric was sprawled and eating pretzels, while Bill was sitting on the opposite end and looking down into his lap. I plopped down next to my best friend and put my arm around his shoulders, vaguely aware of the heated look Eric was trying to pin on me.

"Nervous?" I asked, though I could clearly tell he was. Bill gave a slight nod and I wrapped my other arm around his torso and snuggled into him a bit. "We're gonna kick ass at this, you know," I told him, poking his ribs until he smiled at me. We sat in silence for a moment before Holly materialized out of the throng of people buzzing around.

"We're ready for you."

We followed Holly out onto the stage, where Nickelback roadies (they were wearing special t-shirts) were setting up our equipment. Our equipment. Us. Small time band from Daytona Beach.

Holy shit.

Cooler than that (if that was even possible), there was a huge banner hanging behind Eric's drum kit. About a month prior to tonight, we were contacted again, this time by an events coordinator from Amway about banner art for the show. Tray just so happened to be fucking a tattoo artist at the time, and she was more than willing to create some kind of logo for us. We told her we just wanted our name written out somehow, but she managed to go above and beyond in a fuckawesome way. Kady had created a unique font for us that was gothic without looking too hard, and swirly without looking too girly. It looked amazing, and I was hoping Tray didn't piss this one off too badly, because I'd definitely want to hit her up for a t-shirt or album design if it came to that.

I knew from the way we came in, and from seeing other shows at Amway, that the banner was used to partition the main act's kit and other equipment for a quicker setup between acts. Walking over to where my bass had been set on a stand, I picked it up and adjusted the strap, trying not to mess up my hair. After we were all set up, a spotlight was directed at the stage.

"Okay, guys. We're just gonna have you play your first song through while we adjust the mics and amps and such," came a disembodied voice over the speakers. "On your cue."

I put fingers to strings and began to play the intro to our opening song, "Closer." Even through the ear pieces that Holly had given us when we first got to the stage, I could still hear how loud and powerful my chords were sounding. It felt amazing. Soon enough, we'd finished our first song and the sound guys were thanking us and wishing us good luck.

xXx

The first five seconds after I walked onstage were the most terrifying seconds in my entire life. The walking onstage itself was a blur, a sort of out of body experience where I really couldn't remember getting from point A to point B. The stage was dark when we walked on, which was bad enough, but the start of our show was all on me.

Whose idea was this setlist?

I picked up my bass and prepared to play. I couldn't hear anything, since the low din that the crowd was most likely making was tuned out by my ear piece. Once I got the green light from whoever was speaking in my ear piece, I strummed out the intro to 'Closer.' I knew that was when the lights were supposed to come up, but it still shocked me a little bit. I continued to play, and it wasn't too long before I felt like I was back home playing at Crave. It also helped that I couldn't see too many people with all of the lights.

The first song quickly became the second, then the third, and before I knew it we were done with our four song set. I flipped out one of my ear pieces and could hear the cheers from the crowd. My lips moved into a smile that threatened to shatter my face and I barely registered Pam telling the crowd to come hang out with us in the lobby between sets before we were leaving the stage.

I had been lingering on the side of the stage for God knows how long when I felt someone next to me. I turned to see Eric looking out at our equipment as well. "It's pretty amazing, isn't it?" he mused.

"Fucking amazing," I agreed.

"Quite the potty mouth you have, Stackhouse." He side-eyed me.

I snorted. It was most unladylike, much like my potty mouth. "You really should get out more, Northman."

"Maybe so," he mumbled. "Nice dress, by the way." And then he was gone. I looked around, only to see Nickelback crew members moving around to get things set up. What the hell had just happened here? I was starting to question my sanity when Pam called my name.

"They're getting us set up to sell CDs in the lobby, come on!"

I shook whatever that was off and followed her out into the Amway lobby, where Bill and Eric (was he the Flash?) were talking to Holly. They were standing in front of a bannered table with the same logo as was on our backdrop banner. There were also two cardboard boxes and an Amway employee with a money box. A security guard hovered in the near distance and a small crowd was already gathering. Holly turned to look at us as we approached. "Great, you're all here. Like I was just telling the guys, Nickelback turned your demo CD and videos over to us and we turned it into an LP for you guys to sell with an optional DVD of your original song video. Natalia is here to help handle money and Tony is here to keep an eye on things. I'll be back to collect you before Nickelback goes on. Great show, guys." I watched Holly's retreating form for a minute before looking back to Pam, and then on to the line that was starting to form.

We had sold about half our box by the time Holly reappeared. She took a look in the box and smiled. "Not too shabby, huh?" she commented before stepping back. "Tony will leave the rest with your equipment so you can sell them at local shows if you want. You all need to come backstage again now so you can watch the show." With that, she turned tail and started heading towards the stage door.

While we got settled backstage with a fresh drink and a mini sandwich from that buffet table, Nickelback was kicking things off onstage. Chad Kroger was fucking hilarious, telling almost as many jokes as singing songs. They were about halfway through their set (which I knew thanks to the setlist posted near my head) when Chad pulled the mic off the stand while someone set up another next to that one.

"I know you guys have already been treated to the musical stylings of our contest winners, Area Five, but I thought you might wanna hear a bit of what swayed us."

What. The. Hell?

Chad continued, "Now a lot of bands decided to go at some of our more…let's say, _racier_ songs." He started walked towards our side of the stage. "But none did it quite like Area Five. You see," he walked over to us, still talking into the mic, "this is Pam." Pam, who clearly shot me a _he knows my name_ look, looked as if she was about to faint. Chad took her hand (and I may have shoved her towards him) and he lead her out onto the stage. "While I'm sure you all can see this, Pam is a hot girl." There was a large roar of male voices at that. "The song Pam here, and her band, chose to sing was S.E.X." Another loud roar from the crowd. "How would you guys feel if I asked Pam to sing with me for this next one, so you can hear what won us over?" The crowd went absolutely nuts. Hell, I was going absolutely nuts. I had both Bill and Eric by the arm, and I was pretty sure I was cutting off their circulation with my death grip. I watched a Chad moved the mic away from his mouth so he could whisper something to Pam. She nodded vigorously and stepped up to the spare microphone that had been set up.

Chad set his mic back on the stand, grabbed his guitar, and they started the song. Pam may have only been singing the 'yeahs,' but after she got over her shock, you could tell that she was really getting into it. She danced in the way that only Pam can, and she was amazing. I hated to admit it, but I was slightly jealous. Soon enough, the song was over and Pam was casually strolling off the stage after getting a hug from the band. Her play-it-cool stroll last all of about, oh…an eighth of a second after she was clearly backstage. As soon as she knew she was out of the audience's view, she sprinted towards us and jumped on Eric. He swung her around before setting her down, where she immediately latched on to me.

I walked with my Pam-barnacle back to the green room, where she proceeded to let out the scream that I knew she'd been holding in since Chad took her hand and lead her onstage. "OHMYFUCKINGGODTHATWASSOCOOL!" I somehow managed to decipher as she was squeeing and bouncing. "He grabbed my hand…and then he…and then we…and it was SOFUCKINGCOOL," she gasped out.

This was the closest I'd ever seen Pam come to a fangirl moment.

I smiled at her. "Sit. Breathe. Air is your friend." I pulled her over to one of the couches and hugged her to me as we sat. "You were so badass," I whispered.

"Thanks," she whispered back. "I was so nervous, but then I was out there and I just…" she trailed off into a sigh.

"Is it safe?" Bill asked, peeking his head around the corner. Pam flipped him off, which I guess he took as an all-clear, because he and Eric were coming in the room after that. They both piled on the couch with us, Eric on Pam's side and Bill on mine.

This was definitely _a moment_. I was having _a moment_. With my band. _My band_.

Said moment was interrupted some time later when Holly opened the door from backstage, holding it open for an elegant woman in a pantsuit. The elegant woman then ushered Nickelback into the green room. Wow.

"Thanks for a great show guys," Chad said before making introductions.

xXx

After Chad and the guys left for their tour bus, Holly came back to get us ready to go. "All of your equipment has already been loaded into your van, which is parked by the buses. Pam and Sookie, you're more than welcome to keep the clothes. It's been great working with you guys tonight, and I actually mean that for once." She laughed a little to herself. "You guys have a good night now." We were at the backstage door at this point, so we said our thanks to Holly and then she was back up the hallway. As she opened the door, a young woman came out and started towards us. She was wearing a pantsuit identical to the one the Elegant Woman was wearing, only this girl was about our age and she looked extremely uncomfortable in it.

"Area Five! I've been looking all over for you." We all kind of looked at each other. "I'm Amelia…wait!" She reached into the oversized leather bag she was carrying and produced a business card, which she handed to Pam. "I'm Amelia Broadway, head of A&R for Carmichael Records. I'm here because your demo came across my desk on behalf of Nickelback." She paused and fidgeted, and I got the impression that she was very new at this. If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn that she was reading off of note cards. "We at Carmichael Records really liked your unique sound and your male/female lead singer dynamic." She looked up. "Speaking of which, where is your male lead singer?"

Oh shit.

"He's not—" Eric started.

"Because you know," Amelia kept on, "I can't offer anything without him."

Eric tried again, "Pam, she's really stepped—"

"That dynamic was what we wanted, so you either have it, or you don't." Amelia hefted her bag back on her shoulder. She shrugged. "If you don't have it, then I'll just be on my way…"

"He's not here," I chimed in. Amelia raised an eyebrow at me. In fact, there were a lot of eyebrows raised in my direction. "He's…uh…he's sick," I said slowly, hoping it didn't sound as much like a question to Amelia as it did to me. "We have a male lead singer too."

* * *

**Cliffhanger! I love them. I feel like these serialized chapters should be like TV episodes most of the time. Sometimes you have a nice tidy ending and sometimes there's a cliffy. This is one of those times. So who could this male singer be? Does Sookie have someone in mind or is she just pulling things out of her ass? (It's probably #2, no pun intended) I will happily take your speculations in the form of a review (if you follow me on Twitter, you might have a better idea since my cup of excitement about this has runneth over and I may have spilled these beans over there). Hope to hear from those of you who are still out there.**

**-Sydney**


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